


PSL Forever

by earlgreytea68



Series: PSL [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 00:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12569116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: Eames will buy anything if it says "pumpkin spice."





	PSL Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pumpkin Spice Latte Season!

“Hear me out,” said Eames. 

“No,” Arthur said. “No, I don’t think I will.” 

“It’s just that there’s an entire variety of pumpkin spiced items in the world now—”

“Just because something exists doesn’t mean it was ever a good idea or that we should partake in it,” Arthur pointed out. 

“ _Pumpkin spice condoms_ ,” Eames said, as if that should end the debate. 

Arthur agreed, it should definitely end the debate, but not for the reason Eames thought. 

“No,” Arthur said. “That’s so gross. Your cock should definitely not taste like pumpkin.” 

“Hmm,” said Eames, sounding dubious, as if he thought Arthur was wrong about that. “But what about _your_ cock?” 

Arthur shook his head at him and said, “You’re ridiculous. And this is where we part ways.” 

“Indeed,” agreed Eames. Every morning they walked this far together, before going in opposite directions to their jobs, Arthur working his way up at an accounting firm, and Eames at a nonprofit getting public school kids excited about art. Eames’s job didn’t pay the bills, but it left Eames time to pursue his increasingly successful art career, and Arthur’s job paid more than enough bills for the time being. 

And they didn’t need much: a bed, each other, access to a kettle for tea. 

And, on brisk autumn mornings, a pumpkin spice latte for Eames. 

Eames said, “Thank you for my pumpkin spice latte, darling.” 

“An acceptable alternative for my pumpkin spice cock?” Arthur said. 

Eames laughed. “Yes. It is an acceptable alternative so long as I get your cock tasting of other things.”

Arthur wrinkled his nose. “ _Eames_.” 

Eames laughed again. “You are so sweet and festive, buying me pumpkin spice lattes for our anniversary season.” 

“You can’t have a _season_ for an anniversary,” Arthur said. “That’s not how it works.” 

“Oh, Arthur, darling, do tell me more about how things work and how I’m getting it wrong,” said Eames, putting a hand in the scarf around Arthur’s neck to pull him in. 

“You shouldn’t find that hot,” Arthur pointed out. 

“Your dimples addle me, what can I say? Also, you _are_ hot in your adorable corporate outfit.” 

“It’s a sweater,” said Arthur, bewildered. 

“Over an oxford,” replied Eames. “It’s so corporate. You’re so adorable.” 

“I’m going now,” Arthur said. “I’ll see you tonight. Have a good day.” 

***

Arthur came home to their tiny shoebox apartment and the smell of garlic and the sound of Eames singing loudly, at the top of his lungs, along to music he had playing. 

Arthur was about to head into the kitchen and greet him, interrupting the cooking of pasta (which was really the only thing Eames could cook) and the concert with a kiss and a _how was your day?_ , but he paused in their foyer and nudged his toe up against a bag of…dog food. 

Dog food. 

Arthur picked it up and carried it into the kitchen. 

“Hello, love,” Eames said brightly upon seeing him. “How was work?” 

“What’s this?” Arthur asked, holding up the bag of dog food. 

Eames lit up. “It’s _pumpkin spice kibble_!” 

“I can see that. But why do we have it? Do we have a dog?” 

“No. But I like to fill our house with pumpkin spice things, and you wouldn’t let me get the pumpkin spice condoms. But also. What do you think about the idea of a dog?” 

Arthur sucked in breath to say _How can we get a dog? How would we fit a dog in this tiny apartment?_ But Eames looked so excited and hopeful. 

“You want a dog?” Arthur said, bewildered. 

“I love dogs,” Eames pointed out. 

It was true that Eames made a huge fuss over every dog they encountered but…that was just Eames. Eames was just _excited_ about things. 

Arthur said, “I thought you just loved everything.” 

Which was a ridiculous statement but Eames just laughed fondly. “Well. I do. It’s true. You most of all.” Eames leaned forward and gave him a kiss. “How was your day, my darling?” 

“Long,” Arthur admitted. 

“Put the pumpkin spice kibble out of your mind,” Eames said, and kissed him again before turning back to his sauce. “I saw it and couldn’t resist.” 

“But no,” Arthur said. “If you want a dog, we should talk about getting a dog.” 

“I’ve just been thinking,” said Eames, as he stirred his sauce, “that you and I fell in love while being very responsible caretakers of living creatures.” 

“Chauncey and Petunia weren’t living creatures,” said Arthur. 

“Hush, that’s a technicality. Taste my sauce.” Eames thrust the spoon at Arthur. 

Arthur tasted. “It’s delicious.” 

“I think I’m getting better. Maybe a bit more salt?” 

“Now that you mention it.” 

“We already know,” continued Eames, “that we are good at keeping things alive. I mean, you and I. Now that we are Arthur and Eames in a Flat with Healthy Amounts of Distance from Certain Other Persons.” 

“Yeah,” said Arthur, after a moment, and then hugged Eames from behind, kissed his shoulder, breathed him in. “We were the best egg parents. We did keep all the living creatures alive. We kept _us_ alive.”

“And look what a good job we did,” said Eames, settling a hand over Arthur’s. “Rescuing each other.”

Arthur leaned his cheek against Eames’s body, a solid steady warmth whose presence Arthur never doubted, had learned to trust. _What happens to nice people is they find each other_ , Arthur’s mother had told him so very long ago, and Arthur found himself thinking about that all the time, in moments like this one. 

He said, “We should rescue a dog, too.” 

***

They rescued a dog, an energetic, rambunctious, enthusiastic ball of fluff who chased Eames all over the tiny flat and slept curled up on them wherever they happened to be. She was sweet and affectionate and Arthur couldn’t imagine their lives without her. Eames bought her loads of pumpkin spice kibble and she gobbled it up and Arthur just shook his head and said, “Better that then the condoms,” and Eames said, “I don’t know why you’re so against the pumpkin spice condoms,” and Arthur bought them secretly hid them away for a special occasion. Their _actual_ anniversary. 

In the meantime, they named their dog Egg, and even though everyone always tilted their heads at them when they said her name, they couldn’t imagine her being named anything else.


End file.
